Working Boy [Revamped]

I Wanna See You Dance

From his nickname, Chase would expect Rodeo to have more of a Southern accent but it wasn't too different than what he would have imagined it to be. His voice was deep and rough, but very seductive. Definitely a bad boy type of dancer.

"Um, no. Not really," he flubs, flustered from having this very attractive man near him. He wasn't expecting him to be this friendly nor being able to meet him so soon.

"Ah, it'll probably come to you. Or we can help you come up with one," the male suggested, smacking him on the bum, which earned him a frightened jump. "Nice ass by the way."

"Zayn," Ken growls, shooting him an icy glare.

"Alright, alright, I'll let him get changed. Hey uh, you," he says to Chase. "You're up in fifteen minutes. That means you have five minutes to choose an outfit and ten minutes to come up with a dance routine. Everyone make sure you find him a good outfit," Rodeo states, gesturing toward the racks of clothing.

Ken squints his eyes, "Isn't it my job to tell people what to do?"

"Nope. That job belongs to the boss," he snorts, giving a quick flirty wink to Chase before going to a clothes rack. "Hey, I think you can borrow some of Lionel's things. Come here."

Chase bites his lip to stifle a little smile as he follows him to the rack. He winces, however, at the array of outfits presented to him. Most of them were skimpy- fishnet tops, thongs, and assless chaps. He just couldn't see himself wearing any of this stuff without making him blush.

"Do you have anything here that's at least halfway decent?" Chase questioned, rummaging through the clothes. Zayn exchanges glances with Ken before both staring at him, deadpanned.

"It's a fucking strip club. Even if you do find something 'decent', it's gonna come off anyways," Ken retorts.

"Uh... okay?" Chase furrows his brows at the other's sudden sharp demeanor.

"Here, lemme help you," Zayn takes the Caribbean male's hand and guides him through the racks. He shuffles through the clothes before pulling out a black suede vest along with some distressed jeans. "What type of underwear are you wearing?"

"Huh?" Chase reacted, perplexed. "Um...boxer-briefs?"

"What color?"

"Uh." Geez, what color underwear was he wearing? He undid his pants to check for the color. However, it seemed that someone had already snuck his way behind him, gripping his pants from behind and yanking it down, pulling the boxer-briefs down with it and exposing his uh... 'lower regions'.

"Hey!" He exclaims, turning a deep shade of red before retreating behind the clothes rack. Ken reappears next to Zayn, giggling along with him and the other dancers.

Chase's facial expression went from one of embarrassment to anger in a matter of seconds. What the hell was wrong with them? They didn't need to see what he had. Hell, he wasn't even sure if this was his official job yet. If this was how they got down, he wanted no parts of it.

"At least we know the color of his underwear," Rodeo smirked, nudging his ginger cohort.

"I'm leaving," he snaps, pulling up his pants and trudging towards the door.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Ken hurried over to Chase, stopping him. "Look," he stifles another giggle. "I'm sorry, kinda. I didn't mean to upset you, we were curious," he shrugs.

"That's not the type of shit you do to someone you just met," he scolds before reiterating with emphasis: "I'm leaving."

Chase turned to go, but felt a hand on his shoulder. He sucks his teeth, spinning back again to glare at him.